the dark flower-第4节

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Anna；　too；　go　down　on　her　knees　in　the　stillness。　　Was　she　praying？
Again　he　had　the　turbulent　feeling　with　which　he　had　watched　her
pluck　those　flowers。　　She　looked　so　splendid　kneeling　there！　　It
was　caddish　to　feel　like　that；　when　she　was　praying；　and　he　turned
quickly　away　into　the　road。　　But　that　sharp；　sweet　stinging
sensation　did　not　leave　him。　　He　shut　his　eyes　to　get　rid　of　her
imageand　instantly　she　became　ten　times　more　visible；　his　feeling
ten　times　stronger。　　He　mounted　to　the　hotel；　there　on　the　terrace
was　his　tutor。　　And　oddly　enough；　the　sight　of　him　at　that　moment
was　no　more　embarrassing　than　if　it　had　been　the　hotel　concierge。
Stormer　did　not　somehow　seem　to　count；　did　not　seem　to　want　you　to
count　him。　　Besides；　he　was　so　oldnearly　fifty！

The　man　who　was　so　old　was　posed　in　a　characteristic　attitude
hands　in　the　pockets　of　his　Norfolk　jacket；　one　shoulder　slightly
raised；　head　just　a　little　on　one　side；　as　if　preparing　to　quiz
something。　　He　spoke　as　Lennan　came　up；　smilingbut　not　with　his
eyes。

〃Well；　young　man；　and　what　have　you　done　with　my　wife？〃

〃Left　her　in　a　church；　sir。〃

〃Ah！　　She　will　do　that！　　Has　she　run　you　off　your　legs？　　No？　　Then
let's　walk　and　talk　a　little。〃

To　be　thus　pacing　up　and　down　and　talking　with　her　husband　seemed
quite　natural；　did　not　even　interfere　with　those　new　sensations；
did　not　in　the　least　increase　his　shame　for　having　them。　　He　only
wondered　a　little　how　she　could　have　married　himbut　so　little！
Quite　far　and　academic　was　his　wonderlike　his　wonder　in　old　days
how　his　sister　could　care　to　play　with　dolls。　　If　he　had　any　other
feeling；　it　was　just　a　longing　to　get　away　and　go　down　the　hill
again　to　the　church。　　It　seemed　cold　and　lonely　after　all　that　long
day　with　heras　if　he　had　left　himself　up　there；　walking　along
hour　after　hour；　or　lying　out　in　the　sun　beside　her。　　What　was　old
Stormer　talking　about？　　The　difference　between　the　Greek　and　Roman
views　of　honour。　　Always　in　the　pastseemed　to　think　the　present
was　bad　form。　　And　he　said：

〃We　met　some　English　Grundys；　sir；　on　the　mountain。〃

〃Ah；　yes！　　Any　particular　brand？〃

〃Some　advanced；　and　some　not；　but　all　the　same；　I　think；　really。〃

〃I　see。　　Grundys；　I　think　you　said？〃

〃Yes；　sir；　from　this　hotel。　　It　was　Mrs。　Stormer's　name　for　them。
They　were　so　very　superior。〃

〃Quite。〃

There　was　something　unusual　in　the　tone　of　that　little　word。　　And
the　boy　staredfor　the　first　time　there　seemed　a　real　man　standing
there。　　Then　the　blood　rushed　up　into　his　cheeks；　for　there　she
was！　　Would　she　come　up　to　them？　　How　splendid　she　was　looking；
burnt　by　the　sun；　and　walking　as　if　just　starting！　　But　she　passed
into　the　hotel　without　turning　her　head　their　way。　　Had　he
offended；　hurt　her？　　He　made　an　excuse；　and　got　away　to　his　room。

In　the　window　from　which　that　same　morning　he　had　watched　the
mountains　lying　out　like　lions　in　the　dim　light；　he　stood　again；
and　gazed　at　the　sun　dropping　over　the　high　horizon。　　What　had
happened　to　him？　　He　felt　so　different；　so　utterly　different。　　It
was　another　world。　　And　the　most　strange　feeling　came　on　him；　as　of
the　flowers　falling　again　all　over　his　face　and　neck　and　hands；　the
tickling　of　their　soft…fringed　edges；　the　stinging　sweetness　of
their　scent。　　And　he　seemed　to　hear　her　voice　saying：　〃Feel！〃　and
to　feel　her　heart　once　more　beating　under　his　hand。


VI


Alone　with　that　black…shawled　figure　in　the　silent　church；　Anna　did
not　pray。　　Resting　there　on　her　knees；　she　experienced　only　the
sore　sensation　of　revolt。　　Why　had　Fate　flung　this　feeling　into　her
heart；　lighted　up　her　life　suddenly；　if　God　refused　her　its
enjoyment？　　Some　of　the　mountain　pinks　remained　clinging　to　her
belt；　and　the　scent　of　them；　crushed　against　her；　warred　with　the
faint　odour　of　age　and　incense。　　While　they　were　there；　with　their
enticement　and　their　memories；　prayer　would　never　come。　　But　did
she　want　to　pray？　　Did　she　desire　the　mood　of　that　poor　soul　in　her
black　shawl；　who　had　not　moved　by　one　hair's　breadth　since　she　had
been　watching　her；　who　seemed　resting　her　humble　self　so　utterly；
letting　life　lift　from　her；　feeling　the　relief　of　nothingness？　　Ah；
yes！　what　would　it　be　to　have　a　life　so　toilsome；　so　little
exciting　from　day　to　day　and　hour　to　hour；　that　just　to　kneel　there
in　wistful　stupor　was　the　greatest　pleasure　one　could　know？　　It　was
beautiful　to　see　her；　but　it　was　sad。　　And　there　came　over　Anna　a
longing　to　go　up　to　her　neighbour　and　say：　〃Tell　me　your　troubles；
we　are　both　women。〃　　She　had　lost　a　son；　perhaps；　some　loveor
perhaps　not　really　love；　only　some　illusion。　　Ah！　　Love。　。　。　。　　Why
should　any　spirit　yearn；　why　should　any　body；　full　of　strength　and
joy；　wither　slowly　away　for　want　of　love？　　Was　there　not　enough　in
this　great　world　for　her；　Anna；　to　have　a　little？　　She　would　not
harm　him；　for　she　would　know　when　he　had　had　enough　of　her；　she
would　surely　have　the　pride　and　grace　then　to　let　him　go。　　For；　of
course；　he　would　get　tired　of　her。　　At　her　age　she　could　never　hope
to　hold　a　boy　more　than　a　few　yearsmonths；　perhaps。　　But　would
she　ever　hold　him　at　all？　　Youth　was　so　hardit　had　no　heart！　　And
then　the　memory　of　his　eyes　came　backgazing　up；　troubled；　almost
wildwhen　she　had　dropped　on　him　those　flowers。　　That　memory
filled　her　with　a　sort　of　delirium。　　One　look　from　her　then；　one
touch；　and　he　would　have　clasped　her　to　him。　　She　was　sure　of　it；
yet　scarcely　dared　to　believe　what　meant　so　much。　　And　suddenly　the
torment　that　she　must　go　through；　whatever　happened；　seemed　to　her
too　brutal　and　undeserved！　　She　rose。　　Just　one　gleam　of　sunlight
was　still　slanting　through　the　doorway；　it　failed　by　a　yard　or　so
to　reach　the　kneeling　countrywoman；　and　Anna　watched。　　Would　it
steal　on　and　touch　her；　or　would　the　sun　pass　down　behind　the
mountains；　and　it　fade　away？　　Unconscious　of　that　issue；　the　black…
shawled　figure　knelt；　never　moving。　　And　the　beam　crept　on。　　〃If　it
touches　her；　then　he　will　love　me；　if　only　for　an　hour；　if　it　fades
out　too　soon〃　　And　the　beam　crept　on。　　That　shadowy　path　of
light；　with　its　dancing　dust…motes；　was　it　indeed　charged　with
Fateindeed　the　augury　of　Love　or　Darkness？　　And；　slowly　moving；
it　mounted；　the　sun　sinking；　it　rose　above　that　bent　head；　hovered
in　a　golden　mist；　passedand　suddenly　was　gone。

Unsteadily；　seeing　nothing　plain；　Anna　walked　out　of　the　church。
Why　she　passed　her　husband　and　the　boy　on　the　terrace　without　a
look　she　could　not　quite　have　saidperhaps　because　the　tortured
does　not　salute　her　torturers。　　When　she　reached　her　room　she　felt
deadly　tired；　and　lying　down　on　her　bed；　almost　at　once　fell
asleep。

She　was　wakened　by　a　sound；　and；　recognizing　the　delicate　'rat…tat'
of　her　husband's　knock；　did　not　answer；　indifferent　whether　he　came
in　or　no。　　He　entered　noiselessly。　　If　she　did　not　let　him　know　she
was　awake；　he　would　not　wake　her。　　She　lay　still　and　watched　him
sit　down　astride　of　a　chair；　cross　his　arms　on　its　back；　rest　his
chin　on　them；　and　fix　his　eyes　on　her。　　Through　her　veil　of
eyelashes　she　had　unconsciously　contrived　that　his　face　should　be
the　one　object　plainly　seenthe　more　intensely　visualized；　because
of　this　queer　isolation。　　She　did　not　feel　at　all　ashamed　of　this
mutual　fixed　scrutiny；　in　which　she　had　such　advantage。　　He　had
never　shown　her　what　was　in　him；　never　revealed　what　lay　behind
those　bright　satiric　eyes。　　Now；　perhaps；　she　would　see！　　And　she
lay；　regarding　him　with　the　intense　excited　absorption　with　which
one　looks　at　a　tiny　wildflower　through　a　magnifying…lens；　and
watches　its　insignificance　expanded　to　the　size　and　importance　of　a
hothouse　bloom。　　In　her　mind　was　this　thought：　He　is　looking　at　me
with　his　real　self；　since　he　has　no　reason　for　armour　against　me
now。　　At　first　his　eyes　seemed　masked　with　their　customary
brightness；　his　whole　face　with　its　usual　decorous　formality；　then
gradually　he　became　so　changed　that　she　hardly　knew　him。　　That
decorousness；　that　brightness；　melted　off　what　lay　behind；　as
frosty　dew　melts　off　grass。　　And　her　very　soul　contracted　within
her；　as　if　she　had　become　identified　with　what　he　was　seeinga
something　to　be　passed　over；　a　very　nothing。　　Yes；　his　was　the　face
of　one　looking　at　what　was　unintelligible；　and　therefore
negligible；　at　that　which　had　no　soul；　at　something　of　a　different
and　inferior　species　and　of　no　great　interest　to　a　man。　　His　face
was　like　a　soundless　avowal　of　some　conclusion；　so　fixed　and
intimate　that　it　must　surely　emanate　from　the　very　core　of　himbe
instinctive；　unchangeable。　　This　was　the　real　he！　　A　man　despising
women！　　Her　first　thought　was：　And　he's　marriedwhat　a　fate！　　Her
second：　If　he　feels　that；　perhaps　thousands　of　men　do！　　Am　I　and
all　women　really　what　they　think　us？　　The　conviction　in　his　stare
its　through…and…through　convictionhad　infected　her；　and　she　gave
in　to　it　for　the　moment；　crushed。　　Then　her　spirit　revolted　with
such　turbulence；　and　the　blood　so　throbbed　in　her；　that　she　could
hardly　lie　still。　　How　dare　he　think　her　like　thata　nothing；　a
bundle　of　soulless　inexplicable　whims　and　moods　and　sensuality？　　A
thousand　times；　No！　　It　was　HE　who　was　the　soulless　one；